A World Without Shrimp
by River Amaranth
Summary: Buffy falling through Glory's portal didn't kill her. Trapped in an alternate dimension with amnesia, it's a race against time for Willow and the scoobies to bring Buffy back. But with no memory of home, her friends or of her birthright, will Buffy even want to come back? And of course... there's the small matter of her overprotective maker.
1. In My Time of Dying

**Title: ****A World Without Shrimp**

**Summary: "Sure, alternate realities. You could have, like, a world without shrimp. Or with, you know, nothing but shrimp." Buffy falling through Glory's portal didn't kill her. Trapped in an alternate dimension with amnesia, it's a race against time for Willow and the scoobies to bring Buffy back. But with no memory of home, her friends or of her birthright, will Buffy even want to come back? And of course... there's the small matter of her overprotective maker. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or True Blood or anything affiliated with either of them. **

"_**Of all the gods, only death does not desire gifts."**__  
__**- Aeschylus**_

The light reached inside of her, she could feel it burn as it consumed every sense. Neither thought nor memory escaped it. The burning light took hold of her as she was falling flashing images of people flickered through her vision before being stolen from her, the image of a woman with hay coloured hair and a warm smile, a small girl with long dark hair, an older girl with red hair, a boy dressed in bright colours, an older man with glasses, a man with dark hair and eyes followed by flashes of a silver ring, a sword, tears, a blonde man with dark clothes, the images overwhelmed her mind as they fled from her burning her nerves as they went.

The burning became forceful pushing her in a direction she could not discern, for matter and physical being held no meaning here. All she knew was that she was being torn from her world, fading as she was pulled into the fire of the light. Through the burning and the pain, the uncertainty and the fire, a sinking sense of dread filled her, like homesickness for a place that she could not recall the visage or name of.

The light began to get brighter, the burning hotter and when it finally became too much, the light flashed violently like a supernova, out of memory and time. The light died and darkness came, the burning inferno became icy, and fell into deep, dark water.

_BtVS/TB_

_England, 1495_

Harrison Giles was a good man. He had lived his entire life in Summersbrooke; a small town in the south of England, his family was a moderately wealthy family with titled linage and he could have gone on to do well politically, but he much preferred the simplicity and honesty of his small corner of the world. He had married young to the love of his life; she had borne him two beautiful children, his firstborn, his son, had not survived the month and had broken his mother's heart.

It was not until two years later that his wife, Ellen, had given birth to a beautiful daughter they had named Elizabeth, the girl was a beautiful and healthy child until she was cruelly taken from them at the age of sixteen by a sickness that had passed through the town, the doctors had was unable to cure her and she passed quickly. Ellen had been beside herself at the loss of her only child; she couldn't bear the pain of her loss and had taken her own life.

In the space of three months, Harrison had lost his wife and child. He turned to the legacy of his family, that had been passed down for generations; books filled with magic and the occult, knowledge that was passed down the Giles line to be hidden and protected from the world, but never used. For months he delved into the knowledge, devouring spells and incantations, but it was all for naught. It was not possible, even with magic, to make the dead living again. There were creatures, named vampires, that were the living dead, but they had to be made into a vampire whilst the spark of life still resided within their form, it was impossible to make something dead have life again. Harrison locked the books away out of sight, to never be gazed upon again.

Harrison's grief spurred him to ensure that others were spared from his own pain, which led to him studying medicine, with supplementing his newfound knowledge with his studies of lighter healing magics, it soon became clear that he had a gift for medicine and healing.

_BtVS/TB_

It was a cool summer's night, the sky was perfectly clear and the air was fresh and humid, but Harrison was uneasy. His practice of magic had formed a light connection to nature, strong enough to know that something was very wrong, it was this sense of wrong that led him to the lake that resided between the forest and the old Staunton property, some four or five miles from his home. It took him little over half an hour to get there, his feet well versed in travelling country paths, he was met with the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful sight his eyes had ever seen; a young girl lay on the bank of the lake her legs submerged in the murky water and her head lolled to one side, her long blonde hair was barely distinguishable from the near black mud that smothered her.

She wore clothing unlike he had ever seen before; a woollen tunic that was thinly knit and linen trousers. From the skill stitching, fine kitting, and quality of material it would have been expensive to make suggesting that she came from a wealthy family, but it was unseemly for a woman to dress in trousers, yet they were clearly her exact size. He decided to wait until she was healthy and well before scrutinizing her, and with a little difficulty he managed to bring her back to his home, questions of her origins buzzing around in his skull, demanding to be answered.

_BtVS/TB_

He cared for her for three days and nights, feeding her water and broth through her delirium, placing a cool cloth upon her forehead to calm her fever. He diligently gave her an herbal tea that would reduce her fever and clam her dreams. Harrison called Mrs. Lawson, an old widow whom had nursed five children of her own from babe to adult and had dealt with many of the towns ill when they could not afford to pay a doctor. Mrs. Lawson bathed and dressed the girl, Harrison leaving the room to preserve her dignity, and she aided him in her care. He was surprised at how beautiful she was, and how young. It stirred pain in his heart to notice that she looked to be about the same age as his daughter would have been if she had lived.

On the fourth night, the girl began to stir, and she was brought out of her delirium to the sight of Harrison and Mrs. Lawson by her bedside. She took a long drink from the water that was offered called out in a voice soft from disuse.

"Thank you." She coughed lightly, taking another drink "Who are you? Where am I?"

Mrs. Lawson took the girls empty cup and went to fetch more water, leaving Harrison to answer the girl's questions.

"My name is Harrison Giles, and this is my home. I found you near four days ago barely alive in the grips of a heavy fever, you were half submerged in the lake, had I not found you, and it is unlikely that you would have lived. I and Mrs. Lawson," he indicated the other woman in the room"have nursed you back to health; I was hoping you would be able to answer my questions."

The girl frowned nervously "I will try my best."

He handed her a bowl of broth, and began his interrogation "What do you remember about how you got to the lake?"

The girl tried to concentrate, her brows furrowed and her eyes were glazed as if deep in thought "There was this...light, it looked into me and it was burning. All I was began to fade away...faces I can't put names to, strange images...and pain, a searing pain then...then..." she squinted her eyes in pain and held a hand to her head "I can't... there's nothing else."

Harrison's eyes softened in sympathy, memory loss was not unheard of in cases of fever-induced illness as severe as hers had been, and if what he suspected was true, it was likely that some magic had been cast upon this poor girl.

"Do you remember your name?" he asked softly

"I...I don't remember." She whispered tearfully, she wrapped her arms around herself "Why can't I remember!"

Harrison gently took her hands in his, as he had done with his own daughter "You were extremely unwell, you suffered a great deal of stress and it is not unheard of for you to experience memory loss, I promise you I will take care of you, as if you were my own child." His words surprised not only the young girl, but himself as well.

"Why would you do that? You know nothing about me."

He smiled lightly "I found you for a reason that night; I believe that I was meant to help you." He told her, 'and you remind me of my daughter' he added silently to himself.

Days turned to weeks and months passed in the blink of an eye, as the girl, whom Mrs. Lawson had dubbed Elisabetta (in honour of Harrison's daughter), had flourished under their care. Harrison was pleasantly surprised that Elisabetta could read and write particularly well, and she was a very intelligent girl having taken to his teachings swiftly and she soon was caught up to date with the goings on of the country, the history, the ruling powers and culture that only a short while ago she was completely oblivious to.

He began to tutor her to become his assistant in healing, and as she absorbed the knowledge within the books he gave her to read it became clear that she caught on quickly to the knowledge given to her. After about a month and a half of tutelage he decided to bring her along on his house visits to his patients, it proved to be a rather clever idea as the girl learnt far faster by observing his work and assisting him as he required rather than just from reading.

He smiled as he watched the girl he had quickly come to think of as a daughter enthusiastically prepare his bag of supplies and set his travelling clothes aside; she looked up from her task and smiled warmly at him. Despite her sorrow at the loss of her memories and the initial hurtful gossip of the women of the town about what exactly her role in his life was before he dispelled their chatter by proclaiming her as his ward, Elisabetta had flourished into a confident young woman and it pained him that he would be leaving her for a little over a week as he had been called away by an old friend to care for their family who had all been taken ill.

"Now you do remember what I told you, do you not?" he asked her firmly, his face set in a serious frown.

She rolled her eyes affectionately at him "Yes Giles I remember," for life of him he had been unable to make her call him by his Christian name, for some reason 'Giles sounds right' as she would tell him whenever he had asked "I am not to allow anyone entrance into the house after dark, nor am I to entertain anyone but Mrs. Lawson." She repeated in a teasing imitation of his voice.

"And if anyone should try and force their way into the house, or try to harm you?" he questioned ignoring her mockery of his protectiveness.

"Then I am to take the sword set aside by the door and use it to defend myself as you have taught me, but only if they show inclination to violence." She repeated dutifully.

Truthfully Elisabetta had required little to no tutelage in handling a blade, he had shown her what little he could remember from the lessons of his youth, but what had surprised him was her deadly proficiency when they had sparred, clearly her body remembered what her mind did not, and that was showcased in the refined skill in weaponry. He began to suspect that before she had become Elisabetta, his darling ward had clearly been a person of some importance. Young women who were educated and trained in self defence such to the level of Elisabetta were often the daughters of very important men who had to supplement the weakness of having daughters instead of sons, by making them every bit as ferocious as the stronger sex. Likely she had been trained for intrigue and subterfuge, an asset to whomsoever she was loyal to. It was a harrowing idea, particularly when she was such an innocent soul.

"Giles," Her warm voice called to him, and he was drawn out of his inner musings of her past "be careful when travelling." She smiled at him and bid him farewell as he departed.

His darling little Elisabetta had breathed life back into him, when he had taken her in he had begun to live again, she gave him purpose and he adored her as he would if she were his own child. If he had known it would be the last time he would see her again, he most likely would have thought of something better to say than just goodbye.


	2. Silent Language of Grief

**Title: ****A World Without Shrimp**

**Summary: "Sure, alternate realities. You could have, like, a world without shrimp. Or with, you know, nothing but shrimp." Buffy falling through Glory's portal didn't kill her. Trapped in an alternate dimension with amnesia, it's a race against time for Willow and the scoobies to bring Buffy back. But with no memory of home, her friends or of her birthright, will Buffy even want to come back? And of course... there's the small matter of her overprotective maker. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or True Blood or anything affiliated with either of them. **

"_**Call no man happy till he is dead."**_

_**-Aeschylus **_

_England, 1495_

Elisabetta found that despite the contentedness she had begun to find in performing the menial tasks that ran the household, she began to miss the company of Giles. Mrs. Lawson had for the past three days been bringing meals and her sewing over to the house and had been keeping Elisabetta Company during the day. The nights however, were spent sitting by the fire, pouring over Giles' numerous books and absorbing any knowledge that she could, though out of respect she made sure that she stayed away from the locked trunk which held the Giles family archive, knowledge that had been passed down father to son for generations. She swore to him that she would not touch the books inside, and she meant to keep her promise, even against her curious nature.

Though she would never mention it to Giles, ever since she had taken that sword in her hands, she had felt something deep inside of her stir, a primal need, a calling, for war and for blood and violence. She began to wonder who she had been before, for such a hunger to build up within her, skills that her mind didn't recognise but that her body flowed through fighting stances as effortlessly as water falling.

As each night passed Elisabetta grew uneasy, a sense of foreboding came upon her and her senses flared at each passing noise. It was both a relief and terrifying when there was a loud and demanding series of knocks on the door. With apprehension, she slowly made her way towards the door, holding the sword in her left hand, concealed behind her skirts, as she pulled the door open slightly, peering out from behind it.

At the door stood a large muscular man, his dark hair and beard rugged and unruly and his ripped clothes swathed in mud, his feet bare and dirty. Something felt wrong here, like there was someone other than the man before her watching her. Everything about him screamed danger, and she gripped the hilt of the sword harder.

"May I help you, Sir?" she inquired politely, though everything inside screamed at her to take the sword and cut his head from his muscular shoulders.

His eyes bored into hers "Looking for Giles," He grunted roughly "My master has an offer for him, on some books that he is very interested in." His speech was broken, rehearsed, and often mispronounced, as if someone else's words were leaving his mouth.

"Mr. Giles is away for some time." She replied carefully "and he does not have any books for sale." Her face was expressionless but every muscle was coiled in anticipation, ready to strike.

The gruff man's face contorted into a waxy grin, his heavy hand leaning on the wooden door "I never said he was going to buy them," he chuckled "I said there was an offer my master was giving."

Elisabetta's body stiffened and her fingers clenched around the sword in her palm. "And the offer would be?"

The man's face contorted even further, his completion looking sickly in the dim light of the lamp situated on the table beside her. His hand pushed the door open wide and she was shocked that his strength could nearly overpower her own had she been using her full capacity. "Either you give the master the books he desires, of you will die."

He took a menacing step towards her and without even thinking, her leg shot out at full strength, striking him in the chin and sending him flying out of the door and a good three or four feet away from the house. The extent of her strength did not surprise her, but the sight of a full grown man transforming into a wolf shocked her to the core. Time seemed to slow and the wolf charged and leapt at her, she raised the sword and the head and body separated almost flawlessly, as they hit the ground they reverted back into human form.

A chill ran down her spine as a series of howls sounded from all around her, and soon enough, she was surrounded by a pack of at least twelve wolves. A calm quiet filled her ears and her body ran through a series of motions that seemed as effortless as breathing. Side-stepping, dodging and slicing, the sword sang as she wielded it as if it were a part of her.

Pain. Red hot and searing, like fire scorching her flesh. The short distraction of her glancing down at the bloody gouges in her side was enough for her to be pinned to the floor, her throat in the jaws of a wolf, the sword forced from her hand. Fangs tore into her flesh and blood ran down her neck. Her screams died in her throat and in one last valiant effort she reached up with shaking arms and gripped the jaws of the wolf, with her waning strength she snapped her hands sharply and broke the wolf's jaws apart, snapping bone as she went. Shifting her hands downwards she gripped its neck and twisted sharply to the side a satisfying and audible crack broke its neck and much like before, the wolf became human.

Elisabetta raised her hand to her throat, trying to stop the blood, she pulled the sword into her hand and tried to stand, she only got as far as to her knees when the next wolf attacked, she ran it through but before she could withdraw it she was surrounded by wolves. Barely able to move she swung her arm out desperately trying to hit anything, to take them down with her, but she had barely any strength left in her, and the strike went wide, a wolf tore into her arm and the sword dropped from her grip. She closed her eyes in resignation waiting for the final blow to come. It never did.

Attentively, she opened her eyes and was shocked to see a tall blonde man kneeling before her, blood dripping from his lips, and the corpses of men surrounding them. He smiled at her appraisingly "You fought admirably." He murmured his eyes trailing over her face, he reached out a hand and swiped a drop of blood off of her neck and brought it to his lips, tasting it. He closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively. "Delicious."

Her eyes bore into his "W-what are you?" she coughed, blood dripping through her fingers from her throat.

He grinned at her question "What I am is the man who can save you."

She narrowed her eyes "How?" She demanded.

His smiled and reached out a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear that had escaped her braid. "You would become my companion, my child, and walk with me through death. I would make you like me, and you will never know weakness again." He stared into her eyes and he watched as his words registered in her mind. He knew her answer before she even voiced it.

"Yes."

In a burst of motion too fast for her to see, he lunged forwards and sank his teeth into her neck and drew her remaining blood into him. As she felt herself begin to lose consciousness, he shifted his position so that he cradled her between his legs, her back pressed against his chest and he supported her with one arm, whilst he brought his other wrist to his mouth and bit into it sharply, tearing into his flesh.

He lifted his bloody wrist to her mouth and stroked her hair comfortingly "You must drink of me or you will die." With no further prompting she began to drink deeply. He sighed and pulled her closer to him, letting her drink until she passed out. He held her in his arms and looked at her like a blind man seeing for the first time in his life. He took in every curve in her face, watched as his blood healed her wounds, and was amazed at the perfection he found in his soon-to-be child. He knew that he had to find a suitable place for them to go to ground, but he was reluctant to move from where they were.

A displacement of air and the sound of footsteps caught his attention; he turned his head and was met with the sight of a young looking boy, with dark hair and place skin. "Godric." He acknowledged with deference.

"What have you done, Eric?" the boy inquired in a disarmingly calm voice

"They knew nothing beyond what they were ordered to collect." Eric stated

"Did you interrogate them?"

Eric averted his eyes from Godric's gaze "No, I did not."

Godric's eyes softened when they finally took in the situation before him "And the girl? What made you choose her?"

Eric smiled proudly "She killed three of them herself, she was magnificent."

Godric's smile mimicked Eric's "I am happy for you, my child." He reached a hand out and paled it upon Eric's shoulder "Come, I will put you both to ground, she has already begun the change, we must bury her soon."

Eric followed Godric into the woodland; in a rush of speed Godric had dug a grave deep enough for both him and the girl to rest, he cradled her in his arms, placed her gently into the dirt and laid down beside her holding her close to him as the dirt was pushed over their bodies. Eric closed his eyes and waited calmly for the earth to settle. He felt Godric leave and he prepared for the sun to rise. Time meant little as he began to feel every change within the girl beside him, the call of his blood within her growing stronger with each passing second. Soon enough the sun rose, and he felt the pull of the sun into sleep. He surrendered into oblivion, pulling her closer to him as he did so. Tomorrow night, she would rise as a vampire, his first progeny.

_BtVS/TB_

_Sunnydale, California 2001_

The living room of Rupert Giles' home radiated despondency, and had done ever since Buffy had been lost to them four months ago. Books and paper was scattered everywhere, as well as half empty bottles of drink, several dirty plates. Giles sat in a chair to the side, his eyes circled in black from sleep deprivation, and a glass of scotch in one hand, a book loosely held in the other. Willow and Xander sat huddled together on the sofa, both of them transfixed on the tome Willow had been pouring through.

"This could be it!" Willow exclaimed "I know it's essentially just a viewing spell, but it's a start! We agreed that Buffy is most likely in another dimension, maybe this will help us pinpoint where she is! It'll give us a starting point, this is great!" Giles scoffed disdainfully and rolled his eyes at her.

"What's up with you Giles?" Xander scowled "Willow just found the way we're gonna get Buffy back!"

Giles stood up sharply and set his glass down roughly. "Oh yes? And how will that work exactly? Of all the infinite dimensions and realities, you think that somehow you're just going to find her like that?!" he snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. "And even if you do find her what then? How will you bring her back? Hmmm? Did you take into account that in investigation into alternate dimensions, time had been known to move differently? In some dimensions a minute may have passed and hundreds of years in the other! So tell me exactly how you expect to find Buffy, bring her back, and everything be fine?!"

Willow's eyes welled up with tears and she began to sob, Xander wrapped his arms around her and glared at Giles. "Just because everything might be against us, you want us to just give up?! Do you think that if it was the other way round that Buffy would give up on us?! We're going to find her one way or another!"

Giles sighed and fell back into his chair and wiped a hand over his eyes, tears threatening to fall. "No, Buffy would never give up on any of us."

"Good," Xander nodded "then sober up and help us out here."

Giles picked up the glass, took it o the sink and poured the remainder down the drain, before settling on the arm of the sofa and looked over the book that Willow had found, he reached over the pile of books and picked out another one, and silently got to work.

_**AN- I'm really happy that people are reading this, and was hoping for some feedback on the story, what you liked, what you don't, and what improvements could be made to this. **_


	3. Colour of the Soul

**Title: ****A World Without Shrimp**

**Summary: "Sure, alternate realities. You could have, like, a world without shrimp. Or with, you know, nothing but shrimp." Buffy falling through Glory's portal didn't kill her. Trapped in an alternate dimension with amnesia, it's a race against time for Willow and the scoobies to bring Buffy back. But with no memory of home, her friends or of her birthright, will Buffy even want to come back? And of course... there's the small matter of her overprotective maker. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or True Blood or anything affiliated with either of them. **

"_**Nothing happens to any man that he is not formed by nature to bear."  
- Marcus Aurelius**_

_England, 1495_

The sun had sunk below the horizon some time ago, its waning pull calling Eric from his slumber. With great care, he gently untangled his still slumbering child from his arms, the loose earth shifting to take his place beside her as he made his way out of their earthen grave. Upon reaching the surface he noted that Godric sat on the ground nearby, fresh clothes for both Eric and his progeny in one arm, the other placed lazily on the shoulder of one of the two glamoured humans that sat beside him to his right, one of them a young man a little older in appearance than Godric and young woman whom Eric recognized as the inn keeper's daughter. Eric dressed quickly and efficiently, using his old shirt to brush as much dirt off of his skin as possible, and he ran a hand through his hair roughly.

Godric's lips twitched in amusement at the sight of his child preening, "Do you truly believe that your child with care about your appearance when two humans are before her?" he teased.

Eric rolled his eyes but ignored the comment in favor of the smaller of the two humans, with no preamble he swiftly sank his fangs into her neck and drank quickly and hurriedly, taking care not to drink too much, after a short while he pulled away, wiped a stray trail of blood from his chin and waited for his child to wake. He could feel her completely now, like she was an extension of his very being, their blood was the same and it called to him, he could feel her presence, and he knew that this was just the beginning. He would strive to become to her the kind of maker Godric was to him.

He felt her stir far before she ever reached the surface; he could feel her panic, her hunger and her longing. Unconsciously his child reached out for him in their bond, and began to search for him, she tore through the earth and stumbled towards him, every cell of her body had been remade, those first moments of awakening were disorientating and painful clouded by confusion and hunger. He reached out for her, gazing in awe upon her face, even covered in dirt he found her beautiful, especially with those petite fangs that had descended from her gums. He tugged the human he had previously fed from towards her and it took little to no coaxing from him for her to lunge at the girl and drink greedily. He paid no heed when the human fell to the ground; he simply pulled the other towards her and shoved the lifeless body out of the way.

Dutifully, Godric buried the first human, setting the clothes he had procured for his grandchild upon a low branch of a tree and awaited the next human. He, unlike many vampires, did not need to constantly assert his dominance in petty displays of posturing; he respected the sanctity of becoming a maker, and would never disrespect his child so completely as to interfere with the rising of his child. He was content to allow Eric to bond with his child, to calm her, feed her and have her recognize her maker's dominion over her. The introduction of him being Eric's maker would be all that is necessary for her to realise the hierarchy of their family.

When the haze of hunger and bloodlust had passed, reality began to set in for Elisabetta. It was as if she had awoken from a very long and extremely strange dream, the world came back to her sharply and she gasped in an unnecessary breath. "W-what have I done?!" she whispered, her eyes wide in terror as she recalled her slaughter of the wolf-men, and the man and woman whose blood she had consumed so ravenously.

Eric's hands clutched her shoulders and his deep blue eyes bored into hers, when their gazes met she was filled with a certainty she could not explain, that she should listen to him reverently, she chest burned as if she were holding her breath and she knew with absolute clarity that she would do whatever he were to ask of her.

"You have done nothing that your nature does not demand," He stated firmly "do not feel guilt or shame in your actions for that is pointless; there is no right or wrong, despite what the human church would claim, there is only survival or death." He cupped her cheek in his hand "I watched you slaughter the wolves; it was beautiful, and you were magnificent. I have gifted you with eternal life; you have become greater than you were, transcending humanity. As your maker, you must obey me, and show due respect to my maker." he gestured to Godric, who remained patient and seemingly impassive as he waited for Eric to explain their state of being to his child. "You must leave your old life behind you, you cannot go back to your home or your family, but I will be with you always, my blood is your blood."

Her eyes began lied with red, filled with blood-tears, but not of sorrow. For the first time since Giles had found her, she felt more than content. Her mind spun with amazement at the words of her maker, longing and awe filled her heart. She felt free, he had seen the darkness inside of her heart, and he had not turned away from her, no, he saw beauty in her darkness, he found magnificent the parts of her that Giles had taught her to scorn and look upon with distaste. She knew from that moment, from his complete acceptance of her, that she truly belonged somewhere in this world. She no longer cared if her memories ever returned to her, she would follow this man wherever he led, and her loyalty would remain steadfast and unwavering. "I will follow you; I will never abandon or betray you." Her voice was strong and her hazel eyes burned with determination.

Eric smiled proudly at her, and bid her to tell him her name, she informed him that it was Elisabetta, and after rolling it around on his tongue a few times he informed her of his own name.

Godric's hear filled with pride at the scene unfolding before him, his child had chosen wisely. Too often he had seen vampires made by force, or by trickery, or that were despicable as humans, and they were disrespectful, disloyal, disobedient and often lazy, indolent or insane. When he had made Eric, had had given him a choice, and had he refused him he would have honoured that choice. A child that hated you was of no use and would never allow a true bond to form between them as maker and child. His pride in Eric had never been greater; he had become a maker to a skilled warrior, she was beautiful, dangerous and above all else was as loyal as Eric was.

Eric provided her with the clothes that Godric had brought; a tunic and pair of breeches that had come from Godric's wardrobe, and he promised himself that he would not allow her to want for anything; he would dress her like a queen if it pleased her. He was pleasantly surprised that instead of disappointment or unease at being dressed in men's clothing, she acquiesced without argument and was genuinely grateful for the fresh clothing. After insisting that they both turn around, she changes quickly and Eric noted that even in Godric's clothing and barefoot, her long blonde hair hanging loosely and windswept, she was a sight to behold. He noted with amusement that she still had not figured out how to retract her fangs. After a few amusing minutes of instruction which included her pouting unhappily, she finally managed to retract them.

The night was wearing on, and both Eric and Godric knew that after the slaughter of the wolves the night before, they needed to leave this town as far behind them as they could, whilst the girl had proven herself to have some skill in defending herself the Change was a difficult time consumed by instinct, desire and impulse, there was no way that they could defend both her and themselves against a pack of werewolves of unknown numbers, all of them intoxicated by vampire blood. There would be time to hunt them again and when they did so their number would be one greater.

Godric's eyes alone conveyed the silent instruction to Eric, little over five hundred years together had enabled them to read each other nearly flawlessly, tonight they would feed and leave this town far behind them.

That night was filled with blood and death, as the three vampires gorged themselves in the blood of the townsfolk, they drank beyond the call of hunger, the sight of the carnage, the call of each other's blood spurred them on, their lust for blood and death was intoxicating. Humans ran from the safety of their homes into the arms of death; the men to defend their homes; the women to defend their husbands. Elisabetta was in entranced by the world; she could see with deadly precision in the darkness, she could run beyond what human vision could follow and her strength was beyond that of ten men, she had been born again when she had died and risen to a world filled with wonder, the darkness that had always been at war within herself settled within her and she no longer felt as if she were being pulled in two separate directions, she felt complete and she was lost to the call of the blood around her. It was a deep and primal need, a call, one that was beyond euphoric when satiated. She drank, and she drank deeply of the blood of those who had once been her neighbours.

Eric was overwhelmed, his own hunger and bloodlust was fuelled twofold by every emotion that Elisabetta was unwittingly projecting to him and she indulged her nature for the first time, and in spurred him to indulge himself beyond what he would normally partake in. He gazed upon the destruction that Godric, Elisabetta and himself had wrought upon the town with an appraising eye. Typically vampires, particularly Godric and himself, would refrain from causing so much chaos, but with the new addition to their family, such an indulgence was required to bond together quickly. It was surprising how a little shared carnage could form camaraderie so swiftly.

With a blur of speed, he appeared beside his child and sank his fangs into the opposite side of the neck of the woman she was feeding on; their eyes met as they drank greedily, and blood staining them both from head to toe. He did not remember which of them moved first, but soon enough her bloodied lips were upon his and they kissed passionately before pulling away from each other, and letting the drained body of the woman fall to their feet.

All too aware of how near to dawn it was approaching, Eric refrained from kissing her again, and instructed her to aid him and Godric in covering their tracks. Luckily for them, the wolves had left plenty of tracks in the mud for their presence to be recognised, and would provide them with a believable cover story, the vampires piled the human corpses into the church and closed the doors, before setting light to the building. Any humans who happened upon the scene would assume that the wolves had attacked, the blood was from the humans who had been wounded, and the townspeople had hurried to the church, baring themselves inside, an accident occurred and the building went up in flames, killing the survivors.

The three blood drenched vampires fled the town, unaware of the woman who had watched the butchering of her town from her window, recognising the demons for what they were, her body too old and infirm to fight with the others, but her mind was as sharp as ever, and age had graced her with patience, in a few days time Harrison Giles would return, and she would inform him of the fate of his ward, for she had recognised the face of the female demon, covered in blood and dirt though it was, she had cared for the girl as if she were her own child. Guilt consumed her, perhaps if she had been more attentive those demons would never have been able to corrupt Elisabetta.

Mrs. Lawson sighed sadly to herself, in self loathing at her feeling of uselessness, she would wait for Mr. Giles, and she was old enough to remember the rumours, that he had books of magic, that his father had fought demons in his youth. Mr. Giles had thought of Elisabetta as his daughter, he had lost everything and now she would have to tell him that the girl's soul had been stolen by servants of hell, but he would know what to do, she told herself, he would be able to destroy those demons that had ravaged their town.

**AN-** **I just want to say that the opinions stated by the characters do not necessarily coincide with my own, and to say that I am incredibly grateful to the wonderful feedback that I have received so far, and it has inspired me to write this chapter. Thank you for reading!**


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